


Everything in Moderation: Advanced Potions Made Easy [Jigger, A.]

by sexonastick



Series: Anthology [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Explosions, F/F, Felix Felicis, Metaphors, Potions, Sisters, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexonastick/pseuds/sexonastick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara prepares for the upcoming holidays by being avoidant and bad with feelings. So what else is new?</p>
<p>Next up: Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything in Moderation: Advanced Potions Made Easy [Jigger, A.]

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Harry Potter crossover in which there are more Professors than ever. Yaaay.

Cara is exceedingly gentle when letting Leo down and tries not to think about whether it's because she sees some of herself in him. Is toying with him much different than what Kahlan does with her?

This is a kindness; the first one she's shown him.

"Friends," she says, and he accepts, though neither seems entirely convinced that it will happen. 

Most likely, it won't.

*

Avoiding Dahlia is nearly impossible, so Cara keeps Chase alongside them instead. He humors her by playing Exploding Snap in the Common Room until the early morning, when Dahlia finally retires to bed. In return, Cara indulges his endless talk about Puddlemere when any fool with half a brain knows they won't stand a chance against the Harpies this year.

Instead of two, they are three again, and it's better this way. Safer for everyone involved.

And if Dahlia's eyes sometimes linger longer than they should, Cara makes a habit of not noticing. This too is a kindness.

The first one she's shown her friend in quite some time.

*

Days pass and then weeks.

When Kahlan walks past Cara in the hallway without once glancing in her direction, Cara doesn't notice. She doesn't care.

She is more concerned with strategies for the next Quidditch match and the N.E.W.T.s coming up at end of year. That is her present and her future. What is Amnell when compared with that?

This is their last chance to take the Quidditch Cup from Slytherin, who have won it along with the overall House Cup nearly every year since Cara began at Hogwarts. It seems time for an end of year redecoration of the Great Hall. It's well overdue, and yellow is festive. Who doesn't like yellow?

N.E.W.T.s are another matter entirely. Immediately after school has ended for good, they'll be expected to find jobs and make careers for themselves. It might be all well and good for a student from an all wizarding family to test poorly and still find work, but Cara has nowhere to turn if that happens. Failure is not an option.

There seem to be so few options at all lately.

There is also the return letter from Cara's sister, Grace, to consider. What's a random Slytherin when held up against family?

Assuming Grace still qualifies as family.

In Cara's heart, she's sure that she does, but she isn't always certain that her sister feels the same. She writes back that she would like to see Cara more often next year, certainly, but she will have to be sure that the Muggles she lives with won't mind.

No, Grace says _parents_.

She says _"my parents,"_ but means the Muggles who raised Grace apart from her sister. The ones who still find certain things about Cara terrifying, slightly foreign, without quite being able to put their finger on what they are. 

If the decision is left entirely up to them, Cara won't see her sister any more frequently than she does now. She's certain.

_"Unnatural"_ she has heard the grown man Grace considers her father say when he thought Cara couldn't be listening. _"Something about the way she looks at you."_

But Cara was listening. She had wanted to understand these people who were raising her sister, to know them better, and so she had charmed the wall between their two bedrooms. She had hoped to hear more about Grace -- what she did out on her own, and how she liked her muggle school -- but their talk that night was mostly about Cara and the myriad of ways she is abnormal.

He wasn't wrong.

There's something off about Cara, and it's not all down to magic. The muggle family doesn't know quite what this is -- this unnatural thing inside her -- but still they sense _something_ , and perhaps that is always the way with muggles. It might even be that this same unease is why other students even at Hogwarts avoid or ignore her. Do they sense the otherness the way that muggles do, or is it the way she holds herself apart? 

It isn't only Cara's unpleasantness that keeps her from making many friends outside the Quidditch team, no matter how often Dahlia tries to imply it. There are differences that go far beyond her fickle temperament, and are rooted deeply in culture and background. There are things most of the other students don't know -- would never care to -- that make certain kinds of interaction difficult, even impossible. They've never used a computer or rang someone on a phone. They don't know how a non-magic bus is meant to work, or that muggle clocks don't ever indicate an absent owner's location along with time of day.

None of this is impossible to manage on its own, yet it has made a habit of getting in the way. Cara knows that she ought to just let it all go -- other muggle-borns do it all the time -- and prepare for a life fully-entrenched in the wizarding world. Leave the peculiarities of her old life behind, and begin anew. Forget these little things. What do they matter in the least?

But do that, and she risks losing her sister completely. 

Become any more unnatural and disorderly, and those Muggles might not even let her through the door.

*

Cara is alone in the library, halfway through an especially challenging Potions essay, when she feels the chair across the table jostling her knee as it's pulled away. Before she even has the time to give the new arrival a disapproving look, Kahlan is already seated and pulling books from her satchel.

"What are you…"

"You're staring." 

Kahlan has laid the books out three across and adjusted their edges to lay perfectly in a row before bothering to look up to see it for herself, but of course she's right.

Cara is staring, but why _shouldn't_ she be? Here is Kahlan Amnell, barging into Cara's life again with no reason or explanation. It's especially jarring to see her now, when Cara hasn't thought of her in nearly a week. Maybe longer.

Probably it's been longer.

"Did you need a quill?"

"What? No."

Then Kahlan isn't looking anymore, attention back on the scroll in front of her. Presumably, it's her own Potions' essay, already with far more words jotted down than Cara's. Kahlan's eyes scan across the perfectly arranged rows of letters and never once shift back up to lock with Cara's.

Which are staring again. _Merlin_. Get a grip, Mason. Wouldn't want this to become embarrassing again. It's just a chair, after all. Why shouldn't Amnell feel free to occupy it? It's no difference to Cara.

Even if the scratching of her quill is exceptionally annoying.

*

The essay is finished in time for the next class, which is the main concern. It's already clear to Cara at this point that she has no future in a career focused on Potions, so while the quality might be questionable, at least it's complete.

The same can't be said for Chase, who keeps one frantic eye on the door as the other students file in, scribbling hastily. 

"How can you be sure what you're writing if you're not looking?" Dahlia says in that especially innocent voice she uses when she's trying to make a particularly scathing point and thinks she's being subtle.

Given how little Chase is paying attention, it's possible that Dahlia's tactics really have escaped his notice. "I'm, uh…" He squints and sweats, still writing.

"Well?"

His eyes flick between the scroll and the door, again and again. "I…"

Maybe Cara ought to help. At the very least, she could serve as a lookout. 

But then suddenly, Snape is there, scowl already on his face, and there isn't any point. 

They've already been caught. 

"Mr. Brandstone, I believe I said your essays were due at the _start_ of class." With a flick of his wand, he snatches the scroll from Chase's grasp. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff." Even his smile is greasy. Stringy, almost.

"But, sir!" 

This time Dahlia is very _direct_ in getting her point across, slamming the heel of her boot down on top of Chase's foot.

"Another ten points!" Snape announces over Chase's horrified yelp. "Now, if there are no more interruptions…"

*

You would think that would have to be the last of Chase's woes in Potions for the day. Cara certainly expected as much -- up until the very moment that his cauldron exploded.

Apparently she was wrong.

All the worse for the Ravenclaw one table over whose face has started turning purple. It's not that it's a bad shade necessarily, just not very flattering on faces, especially for a ginger.

That might excuse the way he's shouting and waving his hands about, but you'd really expect more out of a Ravenclaw, wouldn't you? They're supposed to use their heads.

Goes to show that house isn't everything. Like how Hufflepuffs are meant to be cowardly pushovers, but it's Dahlia and Cara who wrestle the great eggplant back into his seat so that Snape can get a better look at him.

Not that it requires close inspection to comprehend something as obvious as _a boy has turned purple_. 

"Who did this?" Snape asks in a voice like burning oil and indigestion. Even before the question is out fully, his eyes are already on Chase.

Now that really doesn't seem fair.

*

Another twenty points from Hufflepuff, despite Cara and Dahlia's assistance.

"You two," Snape says, peering down across the length of an incredibly long nose, "kept it from being fifty."

As if that's meant to make them feel better.

*

The House Cup is out of reach.

Realistically, it always was, but if realistic expectations and common sense were regularly applied to life at Hogwarts, then Quidditch probably would have been banned years ago.

Good thing there's practice on Thursday. Cara needs the excuse to knock Bludgers upside Chase's head. If nothing else, she'll feel better.

* 

"Maybe if you spent more time on proper subjects," Dahlia is saying on their way back to the dorm; "and less on Divination."

"What's wrong with Divination?" Instead of being properly chastised, Chase just looks sort of wounded. Like this is somehow a matter of pride instead of sheer stupidity.

"Other than being completely made up?"

"What makes it any more made up than Charms, or--"

Cara snorts. "The fact that I can hex you right now, for one."

"That's right." Dahlia shoots Cara a pleased look that borders so close to adoration that Cara immediately regrets joining in. "Cara could hex you into next week, and I bet you wouldn't have seen that coming in a crystal ball, did you?" This wasn't the plan at all. They're supposed to be a threesome now, not Cara and Dahlia ganging up on Chase until he runs off on his own again. 

So grudgingly -- and making a tremendous effort not to look entirely put out -- Cara interjects again. This time on Chase's behalf. "Still," she says with a somewhat stifled sigh. "If Chase is already going to take Divination on his N.E.W.T.s, there's no harm in studying for it."

Dahlia looks immediately annoyed.

Well, more annoyed than she already did and now it's directed at Cara as well as Chase. Her face has started that sharp pinched in thing where she starts to look strangely like a bee. A very angry bee. "No harm to anyone but Ravenclaws, I suppose."

Not that any of them care much what happens to Ravenclaw. Dahlia just wants to have the last word, and Cara lets her have her petty victory.

She's just filled with kindness lately.

*

It's just two of them again that night, but this time it's Chase and Cara.

Dahlia makes a big show of turning in early, stomping off to the seventh year girl's room. She lingers for a moment, watching Cara with a look filled with meaning.

Probably it means something like _"we should be having sex now"_ and the bored expression Cara shoots back answers with, _"no, we really should not."_

If possible, Dahlia manages to look even angrier before storming off.

It's almost impressive.

*

Another day in the library, and Kahlan's back in the same chair as before.

If this is some sort of challenge or mind game, Cara doesn't intend to lose. It'll take much more than the Slytherin girl _sitting_ to put her off, thank you very much.

"Amnell," she says by way of a terse sort of hello, and immediately sets down to studying. 

It goes well enough for a time, but still. It's a bit annoying really how Kahlan can invade someone else's designated space like that and then make some show of not caring or intending anything by it.

There must be a _reason_ , and if she thinks Cara's going to ask about it directly just because Kahlan herself refuses to speak, then she's sorely mistaken.

If it's childish mind games she wants, then Cara can play along with the best of them. She can certainly outlast someone like Cypher, for one. That's assuming he's the one Kahlan's had the most practice giving the silent treatment to.

Of course, the trouble with the _silent_ treatment is it's difficult to make it clear that you're participating too. And it just might be that Kahlan intends something else. Maybe she needs help studying?

It's not likely. She's Head Girl and top in the class in several subjects, but it could be the case. And someone that talented would obviously be embarrassed to ask.

Or maybe Quidditch. Amnell is talented enough with a broom, but she doesn't fly half as well as Cara. Even if Cara were the sort to be modest (and she isn't), she would still have to admit that she's better than Kahlan, and for reasons that extend beyond a higher tolerance for the sort of pain caused by Bludgers.

It could be Quidditch.

"How did your essay turn out?" Cara asks, hoping to at least find a direction to lead the discussion in. "For Potions, I mean," she clarifies off of Kahlan's confused look.

" _Oh_. Oh, it was fine." Kahlan smiles, looking uncertain and possibly unsure, but maybe a little bit pleased. Cara's not really sure _what_ she'd have to be pleased about, but there it is on her face all the same. "Thank you, Cara."

Unless she feels some sense of relief or victory at getting Cara to speak first. 

But that would be foolish. Obviously Kahlan's the one who is so desperate for attention that she sits somewhere _deliberately_ to attract Cara's notice. If either of them is pathetic, it's obviously her. Still, Cara is kind enough to answer, even if it is in a mumbled, "You're welcome."

"What about yours?"

"My-- Oh, it's fine. I mean, it _was_ fine. Good." What exactly is Kahlan playing at? If there's something she wants -- and it's obviously nothing to do with Potions, which she excels at anyway -- then why is she stalling? No matter. Cara can do that too. "What did you write about?"

Again Kahlan looks ridiculously pleased with herself, saying, "I wrote mine on Felix Felicis, actually."

It takes Cara a moment to recall the potion at all. Leave it to Amnell to use the textbook title even in casual conversation instead of simply saying _liquid luck_. "Really?" Cara doesn't bother to hide the skepticism from her voice. "A whole four pages on that?"

"It's a complicated mixture. Easy to make mistakes." Kahlan shrugs, but smiles again. "I had a lot to say."

Complicated is right. Even more strange than the enthusiasm she showed in writing more than was necessary for a passing grade is Kahlan's interest in a potion as impossibly difficult as that one.

Ever the showoff. The concept of humility or moderation probably escapes Amnell completely. Like now, she just won't stop _smiling_ , and when Cara tries to match the expression she's sure that hers must pale in comparison. 

You almost start to think that Kahlan's smile is so convincing that she might even _mean_ it. But that obviously can't be the case.

After all, they're both still angry with each other -- they must be -- and if Kahlan is going to pretend that nothing happened and that she's _not_ sitting in the chair opposite Cara deliberately to annoy her, then Cara can manage that just as well. 

Even if her smile starts to strain.

*

Nearly an hour passes without either of them speaking. Kahlan does a very good job of pretending not to notice Cara, and Cara tries to do the same. She even manages to get a bit of studying done in between quick glances to try to catch Kahlan staring.

She's only fast enough to spot her once or twice. It's during one of these moments when their eyes catch that Cara blurts out suddenly, "Did anyone change colors in your Potion's lesson?" Maybe it's the slight reddening of Kahlan's cheeks that makes Cara think of it.

"What? No." Kahlan looks back down in the direction of her notes, but her eyes quickly snap back up again. "Wait-- _what_?"

"No, never mind. It's not important." Because it isn't. It _really_ isn't, and Cara couldn't even say why she asked. It's not like she's so desperate for conversation with Kahlan Amnell. 

Really, she isn't.

"Cara, did someone in your Potions class change color?"

" _Obviously_." Cara can't help but sneer. "Why else would I ask?"

"That isn't good."

"Snape seemed to agree with you." That incredibly critical look Amnell is giving her is really rather unnerving. "Why don't you go back to your notes?" Really, it's almost as if Kahlan isn't even _blinking_. If Cara weren't already regretting bringing it up -- or speaking at all -- that look would be enough to do it. "It's not important."

"I'm Head Girl, and I think it _is_ important that the other students in my year aren't receiving a sufficient education--"

"Bloody hell."

"Cara, if a seventh year Hufflepuff is turning him or herself other colors, that's a problem." 

"Is it?" Wait, but hang on. Cara had only said it was her own Potions lesson. She hadn't said _who_. Her eyes narrow. "… how do you know it's a Hufflepuff?" 

"Pardon?"

"Hufflepuff. You said 'seventh year Hufflepuff,' but how do you know?"

"It was your class…"

"Yeah, our class with the Ravenclaws. So why do you think it was a Hufflepuff?" 

Well, now Kahlan's certainly blinking. She's doing it a lot, and looking shifty-eyed as well. "Cara, I didn't mean--"

"You didn't mean what?" She leans closer. "That only a stupid Hufflepuff would do something like that?" To be fair to Amnell, she's _right_. It was a Hufflepuff, and a pretty stupid one at that.

Still. That's not the point, is it? 

"And if someone came into the Hufflepuff locker room after we beat you lot." Kahlan stiffens at that, and Cara thinks for a moment that she must be thinking of herself -- of the two of them -- inside the locker room with Cara. But that isn't where this story is going. "Say someone came in, and they wrote _Mudblood_ on the walls. That was probably a Slytherin, was it?"

Kahlan's face can't seem to be sure where to land between outraged and horrified, so it settles somewhere neatly in between. "That--" Her voice is suddenly small, but dry as well. Almost fragile. "That probably was a Slytherin. Cara, did someone _really_ do that?" She looks afraid and anxious, even more earnest than when they'd first started discussing Potions.

She's sincere in a way that's almost unnerving, so Cara doesn't even think when she shifts uncomfortably, saying, "No." She sneers almost as an afterthought. "Why? Did you want to join in?" But then regrets it the second the words are out.

For a moment, Cara thinks that Kahlan might slap her.

Probably, she should. It isn't fair, and it's not Kahlan that Cara is angry with -- no, that's not true, she is angry with Kahlan, _furious_ with Kahlan, when she allows herself to feel anything for her at all, but not about this -- this is about Grace. It's about Cara's sister and those people that she lives with, but now Kahlan thinks it's about _her_ and stupid house pride, and she's getting up to leave before Cara snatches at her elbow.

Once again, Kahlan looks ready to hit her.  

And when Cara doesn't flinch, it's probably because she's sure she deserves it. "Look, I'm sorry. That wasn't fair."

"You're right." Kahlan doesn't look at her, but doesn't pull away either. She has her books gathered up in one arm and the scroll is pinned underneath another. "It wasn't fair, Cara."

"I'm sorry."

"… so am I."

Kahlan shrugs her off like a snake sheds a skin. She adjusts her robes, tucks her books away safely, and does it all without once looking back at Cara.

She's gone.

*

In the following days, Cara continues to study in the same chair, at the same table.

Kahlan doesn't return.

* 

The upcoming Hogsmeade weekend is an unwelcome reminder that the holidays are approaching quickly. Much faster than Cara would like, really.

All the other students might look forward to the time away as a chance to reunite with family and loved ones, but for Cara it serves as just another reminder of what's missing -- not only in her own life, but probably somewhere inside of her too. It's hard not to feel like she's lacking in some essential piece when she sees how happy everyone else is becoming. 

Even the professors have started altering the curriculum to accommodate this most festive time of year. They've charmed logs to sing songs and transfigured mice into mistletoe. The only Professor not in the mood for holiday fun is Snape, who scowls just as much as usual.

Everyone else (for the most part) is jolly. Why doesn't Cara feel it?

Probably best not to dwell on it. Better to think of Potions class work and Charms, or to brush up on Transfiguration, which has always her favorite subject in a way. The total transformation of one thing into another had seemed the most special sort of magic ever since Cara's first year. To be able to alter at least one small part of the world around you when everything else was so far beyond her own control was more appealing than even flying.

Then she learned that, as with all kinds of magic, there are certain rules set in stone. Nothing can be made into anything. Everything has its limits, even magic. Even a witch can only become as much as the rules will allow her to. 

And there are so many rules.

Living things can be transfigured, but they will always retain their essence in some knowable way that can be traced back to the source. Something can be made to vanish, utterly destroyed, but it is much harder to make a new thing appear out of nothing. Anything created completely with magic will only be temporary. It is far easier to destroy than to create.

The rules are written down and memorized, drilled into their heads since the start, and Cara tries to find ways to apply them into her everyday life. She tries to recall the limitations and boundaries while building upon what she already knows. This is how it's meant to work, after all. Find a way to make the magic practical. Find a job, build a life, and become a part of the everyday wizarding world.

Merlin, she needs to find a _job_. But what is Cara Mason good at, apart from complaining and smacking people with Bludgers? Her charms aren't bad and she's always had good marks in astronomy, but something tells her there's little practical use for that in the outside world unless there's a sudden world-wide shortage of magically charmed telescopes. 

She needs a plan, she needs direction. 

She needs Chase to stop reminding them almost hourly of how many days are left until Hogsmeade.

*

Cara is laying out on the lawn, watching a small batch of third years who fancy themselves brave enough to take on the Whomping Willow. Their first attempt leaves them with black eyes all around, and one with a swollen lip to match. Gryffindors, of course.

The snow will come soon, any day now, so this is one of the last chances to spend the afternoon outside studying. Despite the cold, Cara is determined to make good use of the time. She turns her back to the tree just as the little lions prepare to mount a second assault. Their startled shouts of pain and frustration are still decidedly distracting.

But no more distracting really than the other Hufflepuff standing over her now. Dahlia casts a long shadow, and it lands across Cara's textbook even before she's fully within speaking range. "Hard-headed," she says, and Cara stares very fixedly down at her book, grunting once in acknowledgement. "... maybe you should have been sorted into Gryffindor."

"McGonagall will deal with them," Cara says eventually, choosing to ignore the second comment all together. "She frightens everyone, but especially the Gryffindors."

"I suppose."

In an effort at feigned normalcy and overall disinterest, Cara stares very, very hard at the parchment in front of her. It's probably as abnormal a reaction as she could possibly have, especially to Dahlia, but this is the first time the other girl has managed to corner her since Cara resolved for the two of them to stop sleeping together. If Cara isn't certain how to act now, that's probably to be expected.

"What are you studying?"

Still not looking up, Cara mutters, "If I say Divination, will you leave?"

Dahlia snorts. "Neither of us is as stupid as that."

Reluctantly, Cara smirks. "Probably."

"Besides..." When she sits beside her cross-legged, Dahlia's thigh brushes against Cara's own. "If you'd known I was coming, I imagine you'd be throwing yourself at the Willow too, just to get away."

Cara can't help but shoot a glance back over her shoulder as one of the boys goes flying several feet again. "... she might want to hurry."

The boy lands with a thump and doesn't move for several moments. 

Cara and Dahlia both watch, blinking, until he finally raises his head. They exchange shy smiles and return to studying. Foolish really to worry that someone might actually die at Hogwarts. While injury is never uncommon, Dumbledore doesn't allow any student to die on the grounds. 

Not in ages.

*

"Your sister," Dahlia says at length. "Has she written?"

"... yes."

The look Dahlia gives her is amused, if not also somewhat annoyed. "And?"

"She..." There are many things Cara could say about the letter from Grace, and absolutely none of them are any of Dahlia's concern. Especially not now, when the greater goal is (or should be) distance. "She is... well."

Still. It's kind of her to ask. Thoughtful.

It well may be that normalcy might resume after all. Or something like it.

* 

In the end, it isn't McGonagall who tells the students off after all, but a gangly redheaded boy with a Gryffindor scarf and an obviously high opinion of himself. He comes running across the lawn shouting something about _"house points!"_ and how, Merlin's beard, they've _"nearly caught up with Slytherin!"_

It's all of obviously huge importance. 

Dahlia actually _giggles_ and then covers her mouth. Cara can't help but smile a little herself. Just look at it: the two of them struggling to write another essay while watching Gryffindors behave like idiots and laughing at their efforts. 

How strikingly close to normal.

*

After that day on the hill, Cara expends far less effort in trying to avoid Dahlia overall. The better to focus on classes and Quidditch.

There's the match against Gryffindor coming up right at the start of new year, and there's nothing she'd like more than to wipe that incredibly pleased look right off Richard Cypher's face. 

It's a bit ridiculous really, how he manages to look like that no matter the occasion, as if the world around him has no impact whatsoever on his disposition. No one is that jolly _all_ the time unless they're an idiot or easily pleased with themselves. Perhaps Cypher is a little of both. 

How Kahlan can stand it is beyond Cara.

Not that she takes a particularly strong interest in what Kahlan Amnell does or does not find acceptable. It makes no difference to Cara.

*

Her days are so consumed with Quidditch practice and class work that the weekend nearly comes as a surprise.

Or it might if Chase didn't take it upon himself to remind them of its impending arrival Friday morning during breakfast.

"So what do we think? Zonko's first or straight to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer?" He slaps one arm around Dahlia's shoulder, but only nudges Cara. 

Apparently she reads as the more dangerous of the two. Probably not helped at all by the way she frowns at him suddenly. "I have to buy a present for my sister."

"Right," Chase nods. "We'll do that too. Not a problem."

But Dahlia's frowning too now. Maybe it's contagious. "Something non-magic maybe." Cara has told her about the Muggles, and she wasn't very impressed either.

"Non-magic? In Hogsmeade? Fat chance of that." Dahlia elbows him violently, but Chase just grunts. "What was that for?" And again.

Cara smirks. "You realize I can see you."

"I'm glad someone can!" Chase frowns and rubs his side with exaggerated concern. "You're a prefect, Dahlia. Have some bloody standards."

"But I do." Dahlia smiles and mumbles around a mouthful of oatmeal, saying, "I only assault the best."

*

The rest of the day is largely uneventful. There's no Potions class on Friday, which means Cara can relax.

There are only two days of classes next week before the Hogwarts Express comes along to take all of them away to their families -- or some approximation of such. The overall atmosphere in the school has become very relaxed, even jolly.

They spend their Charms class creating flying creatures out of parchment and taking bets on whose will win in a fight. Cara's dragon sets Denna's hawk on fire and even appears to snap the paper bird's neck as it disintegrates into ash.

Dahlia's raven darts quickly around the room, pecking at the eyes of other creatures. It nearly blinds Cara's dragon before being sent away with tail feathers aflame. Chase manages to conjure a vicious wolf, but with so much of the combat being airborne, it's left to stalk the floor of the classroom alone, snapping its jaws at the debris of other classmates' fallen warriors.

It noses the corpse of some sort of bird before Cara's dragon swoops down and quickly puts it out of its misery with one puff of fire and smoke.

"Cara!" Chase flings his arms in the air in disgust.

"Should have charmed your puppy onto a broom, do you think?"

The dragon circles back around to challenge a lone hippogriff, which is apparently the only other creature left standing. 

It charges quickly across the classroom, butting its paper head against the dragon. They lock claws and begin to rip. The sound of tearing paper is almost as sharp as Kahlan Amnell's laugh when her hippogriff redoubles its efforts and sinks its claws into the dragon's back. 

Of course. Bloody perfect.

"Come on, Cara." Chase obviously wants to continue to look annoyed, but he can't help but start to smile as he realizes that his friend is so close to taking it all. He slaps her shoulder. "Show her who's boss."

The hippogriff's beak is pecking and ripping at the dragon's throat, which probably explains why it hasn't already consumed the other creature in flames. What might constitute the its larynx is dangling by shreds.

"Give it up, Cara." Suddenly Denna is there at Cara's shoulder, almost cooing. "Nobody bests our dear Head Girl once she's decided that she wants to win."

Cara snorts without taking her eyes off the tearing paper. "I can." Red strands almost like ribbon fall from the air. A very literal paper trail of blood and gore. "She's not _nearly_ as impressive as you make it sound."

And if Denna looks unconvinced, it's probably because Cara doesn't sound quite like _she_ believes it either.

*

Jaws snap and claws grab, but in the end both creatures end up in a pile on the floor, crumpled and destroyed.

It's only then that Dahlia's raven swoops back down from the rafters to peck at the charred remains of what was once a hippogriff's eye or a dragon's heart.

"Oh! Yes, very good, yes." 

Professor Flitwick peeks from around a pile of paper carcasses and smiles at them all from over his glasses. "It would seem that you have won, Dahlia. Fifteen points to Hufflepuff." With a flick of his wand, all the paper creatures disappear in a cloud of colorful smoke.

Everyone claps and Dahlia pretends to be humble. 

She's only slightly convincing, and though it might just be her imagination, Cara could almost swear that Dahlia is smirking over at Kahlan when she says, "Thank you, Professor."

*

Classes have ended for the week, but there's one last assignment due on Monday.

Cara decides to sit down to it now rather than letting it creep into her weekend and so she finds herself in a partially deserted library, trying to ignore the shouts and laughter floating in from the hallway.

No Amnell today. Not that she minds. It's only an observation. Writing out essays simply stimulates the more analytical side of her nature. That's all.

"Stop studying with my sister."

Cara looks up and blinks once, feeling dazed and caught off guard, like a Bludger just hit her upside the head. "… excuse me?"

But instead of a Bludger, it's a young Amnell, watching Cara with her arms crossed and her face drawn down into an exaggerated frown. "You heard me."

"No, I-- I don't think I did." Or if she had heard right, then it didn't make any _sense_. What has studying got to do with anything? And since when do she and Amnell _study_ together?

"You and Kahlan. It needs to stop."

Cara has the odd sensation of being pulled down by a rising wave or sliding across sand. This conversation is obviously dragging her down into the depths of some deep Gryffindor confusion, and who knows what lies under there? "There… is no me and Kahlan." If she speaks slowly enough, maybe that'll sink in.

"I've seen you here. In the library." Dennee's arms tense, drawing in tighter around herself in something like a hug, and her eyebrows knot down into an even tighter frown. "Studying."

"Sitting," Cara corrects. 

"That's the same thing."

No wonder Gryffindors are mostly considered morons. "No," Cara insists. "Studying usually involves more talking. Or-- any at all." 

"You talk. I know you talk, and after you do she always seems upset."

"We almost never--"

" _I know._ You almost never talk, but every time you _do_ , she's upset." Dennee's voice is rising, and Cara isn't sure if that's deliberate or just a side effect of the way her face is starting to turn red. Either way, it's a problem. "It needs to stop! _You_ need to stop."

Cara chances a glance over at Madam Pince, who is eyeing them with extreme dislike. "Could you _please_ lower your voice?" Not that pleading or common sense is historically known to work on Gryffindors.

"Could you _please_ keep away from my sister?"

Now other tables are starting to stare as well. Wonderful. "You know, I don't think your sister will appreciate the implications of this conversation, Diana--"

" _Dennee_."

"Whatever." Stupid name for a stupid Gryffindor. "Maybe you should speak quieter. Or better yet, don't speak at all."

Dennee's glare isn't nearly as impressive as her sister's. Lack of dedication and commitment to the anger combined with an overall much less regal bearing. Disappointing, really. "Just… stop it."

"Your sister's a big girl. Head Girl, in fact." Cara smiles, but it's not very sweet at all. "But I'll tell her you stopped by."

The Gryffindor looks like she wants to respond -- _desperate_ to respond, even -- but perhaps she can think of nothing. She just lingers there, her glare fifty percent as effective as Kahlan's and steadily dropping. 

Finally, she stalks off in a huff.

For the first time in a long time, Cara thinks herself lucky not to have a sister at Hogwarts.


End file.
